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Winter winds shook the wooden planks of the old house, sending a slight creaky tremor throughout the floorboards. Despite the beginnings of pinks and oranges in the dawn sky outside, not a single beam of light made it through the various shutters and curtains protecting each window. This was thanks to Guillermo, who was making rounds through the house just to be sure it stayed that way. It was the same routine than every other crack of dawn for the past ten years, so it no longer took him too much time to check every nook and cranny for a stray streak of sun. The only difference today was the biting chill that seeped through the walls, an issue which would be solved by a heater in any other Staten Island home, but not one that was what Guillermo guessed was several hundred years old.
So instead of relying on modern technology for heat, he wore a thick sweater he had found when out running errands a few days ago. It had been tossed in the clearance isle of the store, but was still soft to the touch and promised warmth. He didn’t regret his purchase now as he only felt the cold on his bare fingertips. The only thing wrong with it was its bright baby blue color, the light hue standing out drastically from anything else in the house. He had suffered through the night wearing his mandatory victorian outfit made of thin materials so as not to hear the comments, but now that everyone was getting tucked away in their coffins, it didn’t matter all that much.
Speaking of which, it was time for him to perform the rest of his morning familiar duties, which included preparing his master for his daily slumber. Somehow this set of tasks felt much different from the housekeeping chores. When Guillermo did anything involving his master, he felt more nervous and did everything with the utmost care like an employee on their first day working. The only difference was that Guillermo was far from his first day on the job, and yet Nanor the Relentless still managed to keep him on his tippy toes… relentlessly.
He didn’t even realize he had made it to his master’s door until he had been standing there for several minutes thinking everything through. Taking a deep breath, he timidly knocked on the door and called out in a shy voice,
“Master, may I come in?” An affirmative grunt on the other side of the door gave him the confidence he needed to step into the room. Nandor’s favorite record was playing in the background, filling the small room with the subtle sound of vintage opera. Nandor himself was sitting perfectly straight in the fabric desk chair beside his coffin, dressed down to his shirtsleeves, hairbrush in hand.
“I’ve been waiting for you, Guillermo. What took you so long, and what are you wearing?” He didn’t seem all that upset, moreso just curious as to the reason behind his familiar’s rare tardiness, but Guillermo still answered in a small submissive voice,
“I’m sorry master, I was checking the windows.”
“I see, well done then.” Nandor smiled as he handed him the hairbrush, which Guillermo took before finding his usual place behind his master. “I take it everything is in order, then?”
“Yes, master.”
“Good, good.” Despite the record music preventing any awkward silences, the air still felt empty as Guillermo gently brushed Nandor’s thick black hair. Again, he had done this same routine for the past ten years, but his fingers still shook a bit when separating his master’s layers of silky hair, and he still ran the brush through them with the absolute minimum pressure, as if the slightest tug of a knot would end his world (and maybe it would). He didn’t even know why Nandor asked him to do this every night- no matter what his master did throughout the night, his hair was always in immaculate order, smooth to the touch and practically flowing over his shoulders. Even so, he had Guillermo undo his usual small bun and brush it all out. Perhaps he wanted to remind him how perfect he was, not that Guillermo could forget.
Suddenly, Nandor broke the silence, “You never answered my question.”
Guillermo halted the brush, “A-about?”
“Your outfit. I have never seen it before,” he twisted around in his chair to get a good look at it. “Why are you wearing such a ridiculous bright rag?”
The more Nandor stared at his sweater with a perplexed gaze, the more heated he could feel his cheeks getting. “Ah, well it keeps me warm in the winter. I can change if you want, I only figured since you were going to sleep it would be-”
“Keeps you warm you say? But humans are already so warm, how strange you would want to be even warmer.” He stood from the chair and rounded it to come just a few inches from Guillermo’s side, then reached out with pale fingers to feel the fuzzy fabric in wonder. “It is so soft! Now I see the reasoning behind it,” his hands roamed from Guillermo’s shoulder to his chest, somehow increasing the blush on his face. He didn’t dare step away though, instead reaching up to fiddle with his glasses as he stumbled for a response. However he was lucid enough to notice how his master’s hands seemed to hold the creases of the fabric in a longing way, and were obviously reluctant to finally let go.
He felt stupid for asking, and almost didn’t say anything because of it, but when Nandor continued to stand next to him awkwardly he asked, “Are you cold, master?”
“Mm, a little. It’s just, it is especially drafty today. Staten Island is quite a miserable place this time of year.”
Guillermo would have come up with a response eventually, but Nandor grabbed him by the wrist and gave him an order like it was any old order, with nothing special or wrong about it: “You will sleep with me today.”
The unexplainable panic rising in Guillermo’s throat forced the words out in a crooked voice, “Oh y-you can just have the sweater, it really doesn’t matter to me,” he grabbed at the sweater’s hem, ready to pull it over his head when Nandor’s hands stopped his,
“No need. Without you, it will surely lose its warmth, and therefore, its purpose. The house is cold, and I fear the lining of my coffin won’t be enough.”
“Don’t vampires like the cold? Or just not feel it, er, something?” Now he was just desperate, as Nandor had led him to the stepping stool by the coffin’s end and was undoubtedly waiting for him to jump in.
“Another human myth. While it is true we no longer produce our own heat, it is not the most enjoyable at times. There is a balance we like to maintain, and this winter is throwing it off.” He nudged Guillermo’s back in encouragement, gesturing to the open coffin with his eyes, “So Guillermo, you will stay with me today. Unless, you are disobeying me?”
The trembling mortal swallowed heavily before shaking his head, “N-no, master.” Nandor smiled in approval, and Guillermo took the two steps up the stool. Despite being a complete vampire fanatic, he had to admit that he had never actually been inside a coffin, much less his master’s lavish, fur-lined one. He awkwardly leaned over and gripped its sides as he lowered himself in it, spinning around to face the ceiling once his whole body made it inside. It was, he had to admit, comfortable. The pillow behind his head was a soft satin, foreign furs which had to be real caressed his fingers, and the smell of wood and his master filled his nostrils. He would have smiled in excitement at the new experience were he not aware of what was to come next. The coffin was a bit claustrophobic already, and he honestly had no idea how Nandor intended them both to be inside.
“Will we both fit in here?” He blurted before immediately trying to recover, “That is to say, I’m probably taking up too much room, and this is your bed, and-”
“Silence, Guillermo,” Nandor hissed in a commanding tone as he snuffed out the candles with his fingers. “You may be thick but you are shorter than I, so there will be plenty of room.” As he finished off the last flame, darkness engulfed the room to the point where Guillermo wouldn’t have been able to see his hand in front of his face. There wasn’t a sound for a while, to the point where he wondered if Nandor was still in the room, when it was broken by the creak of the coffin as Nandor materialized from smoke directly over him, his hands on either side of Guillermo’s head.
“Are you ready?” Nandor’s voice came out husky and smooth right next to Guillermo’s ear, his breath tickling his skin and sending a shiver up his spine.
“Yeah,” he whispered so quietly he doubted Nandor would’ve heard it if he weren’t a vampire. With that, he felt his master lower his weight onto him, resting his head against Guillermo’s shoulder and bringing one arm to his chest to feel the soft fabric of his sweater. It was strangely comfortable if not for the adrenaline coursing through Guillermo’s veins. Part of him wondered if Nandor could sense his skyrocketing nerves, and he prayed not.
When he was completely settled, Nandor reached behind him to grasp the coffin lid and brought it over the both of them, causing Guillermo to jump when it harshly slammed shut. Now the space was really tight, but the comfort of it didn’t go away. With the coffin closed, Guillermo’s heat and the smell of his master were trapped inside, swirling around the thin air. It made the mortal man’s head spin.
However, if Guillermo thought he’d have a heart attack then, he was sure he would die when Nandor nestled his face into his neck, heating the bare skin with his breath. He could almost feel his master’s teeth against his skin when he sighed, “Goodnight, Guillermo.”
At first, he didn’t answer. This was too much, and his anxiety was through the roof. Or at least he thought. If he was honest with himself, the butterflies numbing his stomach signaled a different kind of anxiety, but he had no explanation for it. He’s served Nandor for a decade- surely if he felt anything special for the man he would have been made aware of it much sooner. That didn’t change the fact that, almost unconsciously, he brought a hand to rest on his master’s back and whispered, “Goodnight, master.”
When he heard soft snoring beside his ear, he almost snorted in surprise. Vampires seemed so perfect, yet they could still do something as human as snoring. Guillermo allowed himself to relax for the first time that night, and let the gentle sound of his master’s breath lull him to sleep.
~
When Guillermo woke up, he fought the initial urge to jerk up at the feeling of such a claustrophobic atmosphere. Soon enough his consciousness caught up with his body, though, and he remembered the events of last night, recognized the weight on his chest to be his still sleeping master, and knew the lavish walls around his body to be a coffin.
Normally he would be on the outside to wake Nandor for the night, but now that he was inside he figured he would have to open it himself. Freeing his right arm from his master’s grip, Guillermo pressed his hand to the roof and gave it a push. Nothing.
He tried again, this time more aggressively, but got no results. The ruckus caused Nandor to shift, and Guillermo thought he could hear a thump where his head hit the roof. “Master,” he whispered, “I can’t get it open.”
“Mgn, it’s fine, you just have to do it with more force-” Another loud thump, met with more darkness and an unopened lid. Then, his master’s sheepish voice sounded next to his ear, “It’s stuck, I think it’s the latch again.”
“Shit.”